Actions Speak Louder (8 page)

“Will do,” she said, and he strode down the porch.  She gave Ethan a hesitant smile.  “Sorry for waking you.  I’ll … uh … let you get back to sleep.”  She turned to go, but he called her back.

“Marcia, would you come in for a minute?”

She turned, gave him a questioning glance, but entered the house.  He noted she was dressed in a thick, purple robe that left everything to the imagination.  As she stepped past him, he reached out to touch the fluffy fabric.  “What is that?” he asked with interest.

“What’s what?”

“What’s that robe made out of?  It’s really … uh, soft.”

She shrugged.  “Don’t know.  But it’s purple,” she said, as if that fact said it all.

He gave a slight smile, but sobered.  “So you spotted the guy trying to get into the basement window?”

She nodded.  “Yeah, I think he was about to kick it in.  Obviously, he didn’t realize someone is living here.”

He sighed and shook his head, and then fixed her with a gaze.  “Hey, uh, if it happens again, please don’t call out to the intruder next time.”

She nodded regretfully.  “I know.  I wasn’t thinking.  If I had just called the police, they probably would have been able to catch him in the act.”  She gave an embarrassed smile.  “I’m
really
sorry.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said with a vigorous and dismissive shake of his head.  “What I meant to say is, what if the guy had turned on you?  You just never know what kind of mindset these criminals have.  If he was hopped up on drugs, or scared, or whatever, he could have come after you and no one would have been the wiser.”  He gave a shudder.  “He could have pulled you into your house and…”  He left the words hanging in the air, as if he couldn’t give voice to them.

Marcia watched his face, her eyes meeting his.  His concern for her felt genuine, and … unexpected.  She wasn’t used to it.  And why was that? she wondered. 

She knew the answer.  Jay had never treated her with that kind of care.  If they had been home together and heard an intruder, he would have sent her out to investigate, while he took refuge under the covers.  Perhaps that was an exaggeration, she mused, but she knew better.  He had
never
,
ever
put her needs before his own. 

Had he ever really loved her
?

Suddenly, she turned away from Ethan, desperately hoping he wouldn’t see the tears pooling in her eyes.  “Well, I should go,” she said too brightly, and hurried to the door.

To her surprise, he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.  “Hey,” he said softly, the deep timbre of his voice filling the small space around him, “are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, still unwilling to look at him.  “I’ll see you … tomorrow, I guess.”

She tried to leave, but he turned her around.  He immediately saw her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.  He didn’t speak, but only stared at her.  When a single tear dropped onto her cheek, he wiped it away with a gentle hand.  “What’s this?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, attempting to smile.  “I’m fine.  You should get back to sleep.  Again, I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

He didn’t release her, but continued to watch her through heavily lidded eyes.  When he suddenly pulled her into an embrace, she gasped.  She hadn’t expected it.  Never, in a million years, had she expected to have his arms around her.

“I really should go,” Marcia said, pulling away from Ethan’s embrace. 

He didn’t immediately speak, but watched her with sympathetic eyes.  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

She nodded her head.  “Yes, I’m okay.  Really.”

“I have a couple shoulders if you need one,” he offered, spreading his hands expansively.

“Thanks, but no.  I’ve taken enough of your time.”

“Well, okay,” he said finally, still watching her with concern. 

She turned toward the door but froze when she heard a loud bang from above.  She turned back and caught Ethan’s gaze.

“What the heck was that?” he muttered.

She shook her head.  “That didn’t sound good.”

He gave a lopsided, but fearful grin.  “Did the roof just cave in?”

Marcia glanced upward, wincing, as if she expected the roof to fall on her head.  Thankfully, no debris came raining down on them.

“I’d better check it out,” he muttered.  He paused, as if expecting her to turn back to the door and walk out of it.  She didn’t, but started up the stairs instead. 

“Where are you going?” he asked with surprise, bringing her to a stop with a hand on her elbow.

“I can’t let you go up there alone,” she whispered, looking up to the landing at the top of the stairs.

“I can’t let you go up there at all,” he told her, aghast.

“Why?” she inquired with interest.

“You could get hurt.”

“And so could you.”

“Yeah, well, this is my house, so if someone has to get hurt, it had better be me.”

“I’m not letting you go up there alone,” she declared firmly.  “We’ll go together.”

Ethan paused.  “You don’t think the would-be burglar has a friend, do you?”

Marcia’s eyes widened.  “Should we call the police?”

He considered the question, but shook his head.  “No, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for that sonic boom.”

She chuckled uncertainly.  “Let’s hope so.”  She started up the stairs again, but Ethan pulled her to a stop again. 

“Would you let me go first? 
Please
.”

“Okay, but don’t trip over your—”  Her eyes did a pass over his body, currently still draped with the drop cloth.  “—Toga,” she finished with a subdued laugh.

He colored with embarrassment.  “Hey, it turns out I didn’t have any clean pajamas.  I mean, well, I don’t actually wear pajamas when I sleep, but…”

“No explanation necessary,” she assured him, waving him quiet.

Together they crept up the stairs, Ethan holding her arm, lest she fall off the banister-less stairway.  At the landing, he paused, glancing around.  Suddenly, another loud boom emanated from above, causing both of them to jump.

“It’s in the attic,” he whispered.  “I’m going to grab a flashlight.”

Marcia followed him into what was apparently serving as his bedroom.  It was dark, but her eyes adjusted soon enough.  She saw the room was stark, with its air mattress and haphazard arrangement of clothing strewn on the floor.  She saw the phone and answering machine near the mattress, as well as a large, open suitcase.  Glancing across the room, she noticed the window was absent any covering, and she realized that Ethan might be unwittingly giving the woman across the street a show each evening.      

“Ethan,” she whispered, deciding to warn him about the nosy neighbor, “you probably should put something over that window because...”

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, as he searched for his flashlight.  Hadn’t he left it beside the mattress?

“No, I mean, you
really
might want to cover up that window.”

“I’ll get around to it,” he murmured.  “Where did I put that flashlight?”

“Ethan!  Listen to me!” she hissed in a loud whisper, “Mrs. Jamison across the street is retired.  She’s lonely, bored, and has the whole neighborhood on speed dial.  If you think you’re going to make this neighborhood a permanent home some day, it would behoove you to invest in some curtains!”

He turned toward her then.  “Huh?”

She took her voice down a notch, remembering the noises from above.  She didn’t want to alert whomever or whatever was up there that they were in the house.  As nervous as she remained about the attic noises, however, she had other fish to fry right now.   

She tiptoed across the room and to the open window.  Her eyes lit on the upper level of the house across the way, specifically to the bedroom she knew belonged to her elderly neighbor.  Sure enough, she could just make out the silhouette of the woman standing behind a curtain panel. 

“Ah, shoot!” she muttered, and then screamed when Ethan flipped the switch, flooding the room with light.  He had just given the nosy neighbor a clear view of her in the window.  She darted out of sight but was confident she’d already been spotted.  “Ethan!  Turn it off!”

“What happened?” he said with a distracted shrug.  “Heck, where is that flashlight?  I need the light to find the darn flashlight,” he muttered ruefully.

“Turn … off … the … light!” she insisted in a loud whisper.

“Why?”

“Because Mrs. Jamison just saw me!” 

“What?” he muttered, shaking his head and glancing around the room, still searching for the elusive flashlight.  He crossed the room to stand beside her, his body now framed in the open window, and backlit by the bare light bulb above him.  He spun around, frustrated.

To Marcia’s horror, his makeshift toga fell off, as he did a visual search for that flashlight.  Since the bottom of the window hit him about waist level, he probably looked as if he were naked to anyone on the outside looking in, namely Mrs. Jamison.

Marcia studied him briefly, in relation to the window.  She nearly groaned.  She’d been right.  Someone looking in from the outside wouldn’t be able to see he was wearing boxers.

She continued studying him, and acknowledged that he had a great build.  His shoulders were broad and his arms well-muscled.  He did have a farmer’s tan, and she briefly wondered why, but dismissed the thought as her eyes lit on his chest—well-defined, and then dropped to his lower abdomen—featuring a six pack.  He had a fine dusting a hair on his chest, and she resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.  It took force of will to keep her hand back.  What the heck was she thinking? 
Focus
! she chided herself. 
Focus
! 
Good grief, focus already!
 

Clarity came when she risked a peek out the window and spotted Mrs. Jamison boldly standing in her own window, with the drapes open.  What was she doing? she wondered.  Lord, did the woman have a pair of binoculars?  Heaven help them, she did!

“Ethan!” she gasped, and shoved him away from the window.  He gave her a perplexed glance, but then spotted the flashlight, jutting out from beneath a pillow he had tossed off the mattress.  “There it is,” he said with relief, striding away to pick it up.

Marcia hurried to turn off the light.  She couldn’t bear to think that her neighbor had just seen, first her, and then Ethan, in the open window.  She was modestly clad in a bulky robe, but Ethan… 

“Let’s go,” he whispered, taking her hand and causing her to startle.  “It’s okay,” he soothed absently, mistaking her jumpiness for fear of whatever had made the noise.  “I’m sure everything is okay.”

“That’s what you think,” she muttered, wondering about the potential ramifications of their peep show.

He continued holding her hand as he led her to the end of the hall to where the attic entrance could be accessed by a pull-down ladder.    

Marcia wondered, had a single word she’d uttered to him about their nosy neighbor gotten through to him?  She didn’t think so.  He was simply too focused on the flashlight, and now on the noise. 

Well, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t warned him, she thought in a pique of temper.  She had definitely tried to warn him.

***

“I don’t see a thing,” Ethan muttered.  He and Marcia were standing in the attic, just to the side of the entrance.  “Be careful of the hole in the floor,” he cautioned.  “Don’t fall through it.”

She nodded and took a step away from the attic access in the floor.  He did the same and panned the room with the flashlight.    

“Do you see anything now?” Marcia asked in a nervous whisper.

He shook his head, but then said crisply, “Yes, I do.”  He strode away and came to a stop beside something large on the floor.

“What is it?” she asked, coming up behind him.

“It’s an old picture,” he said, bending to heft it up and set it on the side of the frame.  He realized immediately it was heavy and probably over six feet tall and nearly as wide.

“It’s huge,” Marcia commented, meeting his gaze.  “You’re certain it made the noise?  Did it fall then?”

He nodded and aimed the flashlight toward the wall.  Using it to clear away cobwebs, he pointed out several substantial nails in the wall.  “The picture was hung there,” he told her.  He bent to study the back of it, noting the wire hanger that had been stretched across the back had broken.  He pointed it out to her.  “You can see where the wire broke.”

“Oh, I see, but…”  She glanced around.  “We heard two loud bangs.”

He nodded, turning to study the musty space.  “I wonder…” he mused, as he studied the picture again.  “I think the picture probably dropped onto the edge of the frame, making the first sound, but then fell over later, hitting the floor with a smack.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” she said, but glanced around.  She abruptly frowned.  “But what made it fall the second time?  The nose came several minutes after the first?”

He stroked his jaw thoughtfully and walked a few feet away.  He panned the light over the floor and then laughed without humor.  “We have company,” he said.